#it’s never too early to think about biting frank

[bellaxgiornata]

SAHD!Frank Castle Headcanons

I picture Frank being an amazing, hands-on father if he ever managed to fall back into that role again and I just think he'd make such a wonderful stay-at-home-dad. I couldn't resist sharing some of my SAHD!Frank headcanons so they're below the cut! And I'm also just going to make him a girl dad here because he absolutely is in my mind.

I could also certainly be persuaded to share some girl dad!Frank Castle headcanons...

With the ridiculous cost of daycare, you and Frank would eventually come to the conclusion that it was just more cost effective to have one of you stay home with the girls. And while you might be tempted to do it yourself, you'd also know how much Frank would cherish being present for every moment with his kids. He'd never want to miss a single thing after the tragic loss he'd experienced, and you'd have already seen his steadfast devotion during your pregnancy. While he would argue that you should be the one to stay home with them, eventually you would win out.

On weekdays, Frank would be awake early every morning--possibly even before your alarm went off. He'd always have a mug of hot coffee or tea made for you whenever you finally stepped foot into the kitchen. And when you did, you'd find him preparing breakfast for the girls. He'd always make you up a plate of whatever he cooked, insisting you eat something before you were out the door for work ("You gotta eat, baby. Just a few bites, c'mon."). And Wednesdays would forever be known as pancake day in your house.

Frank would never run out of activities to do with the kids, even if you found some of them to be very 'Frank.' He'd have them help him build things (a new bookshelf, a baby crib, a birdhouse, etc), and he'd teach them what tools to use while he's at it. He'd have them assist him with changing the oil in the car, fixing a leaky sink, or preparing vegetables in the kitchen for dinner (with child-safe knives that he always complained to you later about how "they can't cut for shit."). When playfully teased about the things he teaches them, he'd tell you he wanted your girls to learn "the real shit they won't get from school."

Every Friday is Library Day in the Castle house. Frank would take the girls to the library in the morning for story time where he would sit back and watch with a big grin on his face as his girls sat "criss-cross applesauce" among all the other kids and listened to the books with rapt attention. Aftwerwards, he'd let them pick out new books for bedtime for the upcoming week. Then he would always make the morning extra special by taking the girls out for brunch.

He loves nothing more than to free up more time for all of you to spend together as a family on the weekend, so he would be the dad running errands during the weekdays with a toddler holding each of his hands (or a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier). He'd be out grabbing groceries, hitting up the hardware/home improvement store so he could work on projects around the house, or he'd be taking the kids to their doctor/dentist appointments so you wouldn't have to think about it later.

Frank would be the cool dad at all the parks, the one not afraid to play with his kids and push them on the swings. He'd be making small talk with the other moms and setting up play dates for his girls. He'd also be the one all the other kids flocked to on the playground whenever he was there because he was known to easily be persuaded into playing hide and seek or tag.

A few times throughout the month, Frank would stop by your work just before your lunch break to drop off food with the girls as an excuse to see you ("Had to come see my favorite girl. Wanted to make sure you're not workin' too hard."). You always loved it even more on the random occasions that your lunch came with a bouquet of flowers--either store bought or freshly picked on a walk by him and your girls.

If Frank knew you had a big presentation coming up or that you were just having a rough week/day, you could always count on coming home to something he made with the girls--pictures they colored or crafts they made--to cheer you up ("S'posed to be a butterfly ring or something. Shit, I don't know. Girls wanted to do somethin' with pipe cleaners. Blame YouTube.")

At the end of a long work day, you'd come home to see that dinner was almost finished cooking most nights. You'd either find Frank out back with a beer in one hand grilling while the girls were playing in the yard, or he would be in the kitchen surrounded by high-pitched laughter.

And when you came home from a long day of work, you could always count on Frank greeting you with the biggest smile. He'd wrap you up in his big arms and give you the sweetest kiss, even if he had to pause cooking dinner ("Missed you today, sweetheart. Hope you're hungry."). It would be the thing you looked forward to most at the end of every day, especially on particularly difficult days.

[gudfornuthin]

The Baker and the Ballerina

Chapter five

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader (au)

Summary: the reader is having trouble with the workers. Frank is having trouble with his old man. They find peace in a new menu item for the bakery.

Word count: 2k

Series warnings: slow burn, cliché tropes, mentions of PTSD, mentions of abusive relationships, (eventual) smut, violence

A/N: is it bad I’m most excited about writing the one-shots for this series? Long way to go until then though. Thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated :)

Y/N feels like she's close to reaching her limit. The studio is barely halfway complete, and the workers are taking her for some idiot that they can walk all over. Time is running out, and she can't afford to keep pushing back the opening date. She also knows she can't bite back too much at said workers, as it will only cause more trouble for her down the road. For now, she remains courteous.

"You're telling me there's a mould problem?"

"Yep. A big one at that."

It's another early morning, and Y/N stands in front of the main worker she's been dealing with the past few weeks, her stomach in knots. His news is the last thing she wants to hear right now, and the cost that will follow it sounds so much worse.

"I don't understand," she continues. "I had a surveyor come in and do an inspection before I finalised the sale. He told me everything was fine."

"Sweetheart, unless you think I'm lying, your surveyor was full'a shit," the worker says, shrugging his shoulders as if it's no big deal.

Y/N purses her lips. Deep breaths. "Either way, l'm not sure if I can pay to get this fixed."

"Well you better call someone 'cause this is more than we were hired for."

She can feel the condescension pouring out of him, as she anxiously wrings her hands together. Y/N is not a pushover. She knows this. Everyone important in her life knows this. But some battles just aren't worth fighting.

She nods. "Right. I'll go, uh, see if there's anyone available soon."

Y/N walks away, not before hearing the worker chuckle under his breath. She closes her eyes and once more takes a deep breath. it's not worth it.

She makes her way downstairs into the makeshift kitchen and living room. Opening her laptop, she searches for anyone local who can deal with the mould, while also not costing an arm and a leg. Her head is pounding and the worry that the studio might never be completed takes over. It feels impossible and overwhelming, and all Y/N wants to do is scream. So she stops looking at her laptop, shifts all the furniture and boxes to the side of the room as to give herself enough floor space, and does the one thing that calms her down the most. Ballet. It's cramped and not exactly easy to perform all the moves properly, but she twirls and bends and leaps as if on stage in front of a mesmerised crowd.

Just as she's about to glide into a pirouette, her phone pings. Y/N calms herself down from the ballet high and reaches for the device.

The name that pops up elicits more of a high school girl reaction than she would have liked it to, as she feels the butterflies materialise in her stomach. The message itself, however, leaves her feeling more so confused.

'Are you allergic to nuts?" - Frank

She furrows her brow but tries not to dwell on it too much. He's a baker, that's a question he probably asks people quite frequently.

'Hello to you too. No, I'm not, why?'

‘Just wondering. How you doing anyways?’

Y/N huffs, unsure if she wants to load her issues onto Frank. However, it might be good to let some steam off on anyone willing to listen.

‘I've got mould.’

'Damn. Might wanna get that checked by a doctor.'

Frank's response causes Y/N to laugh and roll her eyes, glad someone is willing to make jokes about the whole situation. Her phone pings as he sends another text.

'Seriously though that's gotta be rough. The workers doing anything about it?'

She shakes her head as if he could see her through the screen.

'Nope. Hoping to find a guy who can get rid of it all. Might need to sell my soul to pay them though.'

The reality soon hits her again, as she rests her elbows on the counter and rubs her eyes. Maybe she is in over her head. Maybe it should've been a warning to her when she got the place for dirt cheap. Now everything is falling apart one after the other. She needs to lie down in a dark room for at least 20 hours. Another ping.

'Check the front door.'

Y/N is confused but goes along with what Frank tells her to do. She leaves the room and heads downstairs, opening the door. She looks down and spots a bag filled to the brim with baked goods. Ones, of course, from Bakehouse 31. A few of them with what appears to be almonds coating the tops. Her smile is wide, as she picks up the treats and glances across the street. She sees Frank through the bakery window looking at her. He waves and she does the same back.

Y/N can already hear Farah's sarcastic remark. Yeah, there's definitely nothing going on between you two.

--

It's the following day and Y/N is carrying two large pizza boxes, heading towards the bakery. She felt slightly bad with how often Frank gave her free stuff and thought this was the best thing to offer in return.

Thankfully Bakehouse 31 is quiet as she enters, spotting David behind the counter. He notices her too and finishes up with the customer he's dealing with.

"Hey, it's ballerina girl!" he spreads his arms out wide and smiles at her.

She smiles back. "Y/N is fine, thank you."

She places the pizzas down on the counter, David looking at them in shock and hunger.

"I thought since you guys kept giving me free pastries, I could give you pie in return." She shrugs. "You can just share it out with everyone."

"Thanks," David responds, moving the boxes to one of the counters behind him. "It's just the two of us working here though. But I don't like sharing so two pizzas is perfect." Y/N nods, glad her tasty gift is appreciated.

David takes a slice, shoving most of it in his mouth like he hadn't eaten for days. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you're also here to see the big guy?"

She proves him right by awkwardly looking down at the floor and shifting from one foot to the other. Yeah, definitely here to see Frank.

David shakes his head in amusement. "He's out back. You can go check on him if you want, been out there for a while now."

Y/N thanks him and makes her way towards the back where David directed her to go. The door is slightly agar and as she goes to open it, she hears a strained voice, gradually raising in volume. Frank.

"I can't keep talking about this shit with you, alright?" There's no response that Y/N can hear, so she assumes he's on the phone. "I got a lot of orders to do."

Another bout of silence, then Frank's voice gets louder and sharper, making her jump. "It is important! It's important to me and it means a hell of a lot to everyone who buys our shit."

Y/N risks opening the door wider, peaking her head around to get a proper look at the man. He's turned away from her, one hand holding his phone and the other stressfully raking through his hair. She can see the veins bulging in his neck and knows his face is showcasing his anger well. She hates to admit it, but it terrifies her slightly. She feels on edge and ready to run at any second if things get nasty. It reminds her too much of her ex-boyfriend, Jonah, and how he would lose his temper with her at the smallest things. Maybe Frank isn't like that, she doesn't think he is. But the way he's acting right now, she hopes to never find out.

Frank carries on talking. "I'm done talkin' to you, dad. I gotta go help David out."

He finally hangs up and turns around, spotting Y/N in her frozen state. She awkwardly smiles and says hi. As if by magic, his hard, tense exterior softens instantly.

"Hey," he says, the tone of his voice a complete contrast to what it was moments ago. "Wasn't expecting to see you today, you good?"

"Sorry, I was just dropping off some pizzas for you and David," she tries to cover the shake in her voice. "As I felt bad for all the free stuff you've given me."

Frank is quick to wave her off. "Sweetheart, you didn't have to do that. I'm happy to give you all the sweet treats you want." He moves closer. "Thank you though, I'm sure David's already cleaned up one of them."

Sweetheart. Hearing him say that compared to when the worker called her the same thing feels different. It's not said in a condescending way, to make her feel inferior or small. It makes her feel good. It makes her feel close to him, like he's comfortable giving her a pet name. She hopes to hear him call her that more often.

"Oh also," Frank continues. "I've got something for you to try." He makes his way back into the bakery and Y/N quickly follows. He leads her into the kitchen, almost every surface covered with different pastries and muffins and loaves of bread. It's chaotic, but it makes Y/N love it so much more.

"Here," Frank moves a tray of muffins in front of her, picking one up and holding it out to take. "Tell me what you think."

She breaks a piece off and bites into it, the moist, cakey texture being complimented by a tart, sweet goo. Raspberry to be exact.

"Your friend mentioned it was a favourite of yours the other day," Frank says, watching her face to gage her reaction. "I knew I had to make some straight away as we didn't have any on the menu."

Y/N doesn't want to appear dramatic, but she feels like she could burst into tears right in front of him. The thought of Frank making the raspberry muffins because he knew they were her favourite makes her feel shy and incredibly touched. Something so simple yet so thoughtful and she isn't quite sure how to show her gratitude.

She places a gentle hand on his bicep, hoping he doesn't notice how sweaty her palms are. "That's probably the sweetest thing anyone's done for me. And they taste amazing, not that that's a shock." They smile at each other, as Frank pats her on the back and starts packing up the muffins.

"I hate to dampen the mood," he says as he places some of the muffins in a separate pile for her to take. "But how's work going at the studio?"

Y/N almost forgets about the shit show she left behind, sighing and picking at some of the raspberry pieces. "Well, I got a mould guy to do another check. And the guy who's making my life hell has now said it'll be triple what I originally thought the work would cost."

Frank shakes his head as she continues talking. "Also, and I don't know if this is just in my head, but I don't exactly feel comfortable being over there when they are now."

Frank feels the need to speak up at this. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugs. "The way they look at me, the way they talk to me. It's probably nothing but I just have that gut feeling, you know?" Frank finds it hard to hide his emotions, the thought of those men making Y/N feel uncomfortable, possibly unsafe, in her own studio. It makes him beyond pissed off.

He looks into her eyes, as she picks apart the muffin and eats it slowly. "I've said before and I'll say it again. You need me to go talk to them, just say the word and I'll deal with it."

Y/N incessantly shakes her head and swallows, not looking at him. "Frank, trust me, it's fine. I shouldn't have even brought it up!"

He takes her wrist and turns her to face him properly. His stare is intense as she finally meets his eyes. "You promise, sweetheart?"

That word again, sending her heart into overdrive. "Yeah. Promise."

- - -

Taglist: @nialhero-blog @luvrgirlsworld @britt217 @solstararis @legit9thlunaticwarrior

[t1metravel]

DONNIE DARKO HEADCANONS

౨ৎ my personal collection, will add to this list over time

౨ৎ tw! some headcanons may include sensitive topics, they will be separated from the rest of the headcanons & listed at the bottom :)

last updated 5/5/25

-if modern day donnie had tiktok, he would stitch people’s videos with a video of him calling them stupid, or just staring blankly at the camera

-he cuddles a pillow and holds his own hand to go to sleep when gretchen isn’t there :(((

-speaking of gretchen he tickles her just to fuck with her

-he chews on the tip of his pencils when he’s thinking really hard abt something

-he bites the inside of his cheek when he’s nervous

-horrible stutter. this one is sorta canon bc he does stutter in the movie but when you get to really know him he doesn’t mask it as often

-he struggles with spelling some words. there’s a few words he can never remember how to spell, but good thing for him i headcanon gretchen to always the best at the spelling bee. so she can help him :)

-aside from sleepwalking this guy makes a lot of noises in his sleep. sometimes even talking in full sentences.

-was in art class. he tried pottery but, let’s just say, making mugs isn’t his strong suit. he’d rather sketch what goes on in his head. (me too)

-speaking of art, he draws gretchen quite often!!

-same with writing poems about her. he has such a way with words

-this is shown in the movie, but donnie often rambles about whatever interests him or whatever is on his mind to whoever he can feel comfortable with. he doesn’t realize it sometimes, but when he does it to gretchen she’s the only person who doesn’t tell him to stop or be quiet. she sits there and listens and loses herself in him

-he’s got pages upon pages in his journal that are barely understandable. he’s the type of person who’s handwriting gets worse depending on how upset they are at the time of writing. you can tell when he’s just seen frank in some of his entries, even if he doesn’t bring it up.

-will wear the same t shirt multiple days in a row i’m sorry (it’s probably that dumb blue one :3)

-shoves his papers haphazardly in his bag in school. this man hasn’t touched a folder in his life

-speaking of school, he’s really good in one subject and horrible in the other. there’s no in between.

-i also like to think donnie often went nonverbal as a kid but he went to therapy for it early on

——————————————————

-i ‘like’ to think his hallucinations got so bad he attempted. or at least almost did. the gun he found, he took it and biked off to that one spot on the road where you can see the sky so well. he was almost at his demise, but someone thought he was sleepwalking again and told him to go home.

[fandomnerd9602]

Tiger/Spider (4)

Ava Ayala / White Tiger x Spider-Man!Reader

The clock was nearing midnight. Muse stood on top of the Kirby-Lieber Building construction site, his eyes locked on the Ayala family who he had strung up by a cable high above the concrete ground.

“You should rejoice” he intoned to the family you held so dear. “Whether it’s splattered upon the pavement or not, you shall be witnesses to my magnum opus. My masterpiece”

“Artists are remembered after they’re dead, asshat” Angela remarks.

Muse approaches the crane lever, “one more word and I’ll drop you early. Soon enough my targets will be here. Spider Man and the White Tiger”

Angela’s eyes went wide.

You, Ava, Matt and Luke Cage pulled up outside the construction site in Frank’s old beat up black van.

Matt readies his batons, “(Y/N) and I will distract Muse.”

“I’ll get my family” Ava states.

“And I’ll work on helping Spidey and DD get Muse into position” Luke cracks his knuckles. “Looks like Christmas is coming early this year”

Muse spotted you and the Defenders approaching.

“Luke Cage,” he muttered, “I have just the solution”

Muse pulled out a small detonator and clicked it. Boom! The entire corner support seam on the bottom floor exploded.

“Muse is trying to bring down the whole building!” Ava yelled.

Luke ran to the falling support beam and wedged himself underneath. “Go!” He said through gritted teeth. “Get the hostages and get out fast!”

With little time to think, you grabbed Ava and webbed a line to the top floor. You began running up the side of the building. Ava jumped off your back, using the claws in her gloves as leverage, running up the side of the building with you.

Matt shot up a grappling line and made his way up too.

You speak into your comm set, “the plan hasn’t changed. Moving to phase two!”

“Copy” the gruff military voice of Frank Castle spoke.

You and Ava landed on the top floor and readied yourselves. Muse held the release button for the cable holding the Ayala family. Angela’s eyes went wide when she saw Ava decked out in the full costume. Even with the mask on, Angela knew it was her cousin under there.

“Spider-Man and the White Tiger.” Muse calmly said. “You kept your end of the deal”

“Now keep yours” you growled. “Deliver the Ayala family to me safely”

“I never said that I’d deliver them safely. They are still part of my magnum opus”

Click! The cable holding the Ayala family released. Time slowed down for you and Ava. Both of you took off in a mad sprint. You charged at Muse. Ava ran right for her family.

Ava dived into the open air, grabbing the cable with one hand and throwing a grappling line to the crane above. The sudden stop of holding both wire and family nearly ripped her arms out. Ava screamed in pain but she was not about to let her family fall.

You attacked Muse with all the fury of a man who lost everything. You punched him several times in rapid succession. You webbed a steel pipe to you and smacked him square in the chest with it, screaming at the top of your lungs. Muse pulled out a gun and shot. You slammed that pipe into his arm and disarmed him.

However the bullet careened towards Ava, narrowly missing her but breaking off a piece of her mask.

Ava winced a little as half of the mask fell past her family and towards the city below. Her eyes wandered down to her family. Their eyes all looked back up at her.

“Ava” Tia Soledad look at Ava in utter shock. Angela looked to her cousin with tears of joy.

Ava gave them a nod, “hold on!”

Matt jumped up from the side of the building and began fighting Muse with you. The two of you covered each others’ weak spots and slammed your fists repeatedly into the artist, pushing him towards the side of the building.

The cable began slipping from Ava’s grasp, the metal biting into Ava’s fingers. She looked around and saw the story below her had an open window.

“Don’t clench up!” Ava said as she swung with all her might before letting go of the cable. Her family screamed they were flung right thru the open window and landed safely.

Ava landed a split second later and helped untie them. Soledad hugged Ava close, crying as she saw her face.

“Mi tigresa” Soledad gently whispered through her tears. Angela just hugged her cousin tightly.

“I’m gonna get you all out of here” Ava gently guided them towards the construction site elevator, setting it for the first floor “I’ll explain everything later! I promise”

You and Matt kept wailing on Muse. Muse slammed his foot into Matt’s kneecap, breaking his leg.

Muse sliced you clean across the chest with his knife, throwing you off balance. He grappled Matt and threw him clear away from you.

Muse tackled you to the floor of the construction site.

Muse wrapped his fingers around your throat, squeezing the life out of you.

“Did you really think you could take on the greatest artist in the modern age?” Muse growls, “with a little fist fight?”

“It…was…never that,” you say, you could feel your eyes practically bulging out of your skull. “I was just the distraction.”

Muse looked in confusion. A red dot appeared on his chest.

The next building over, Frank Castle laid there in sniper shooting stance, his 50cal rifle locked and loaded.

“You’ve been punished, motherf—“

Blam!! The bullet careened thru the night air and hit Muse square in the chest, ripping a hole through his heart.

Muse stumbled, his breathing became labored. Ava ran in and kicked him square in the stomach.

The “artist” was sent flying off the edge of the building. His body landed right in the nearby spiked fence. Muse could only look at his own blood as it spilt out. “B-Beautiful” was his last words.

You hugged Ava tightly, just relishing the fact that it was over. You and Ava were finally done with Muse.

“Guys” Luke Cage said over the comms, “building. coming down. Can’t hold much longer”

You grabbed Ava and swung clear of the building. Matt jumped and shot a grappling line to a nearby building. Luke got out without a scratch on him.

You all landed on the nearby building where Frank was already putting away his rifle. “Just like the old days,” the gruff man said. “The Defenders. Still never cared for the name”

“We’ll work on it” you smirked.

“We?” Ava smiles at you, wrapping her arms around you.

“No one else I want to do this life with” you smiled as you pulled her in for a kiss.

A simple gesture, a kiss, but it held so much promise with it. Promise of a new day, a new life with you, Ava, and your little daughter.

To Be Concluded…

Tags @deafeningsharkslimeempath @supercorpdanbeau @jacenradio7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @marveldcfandom @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iiconicsfan25 @texaswolf23 @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @www-spiderxtiger

[electricbluebutterflies]

7, kissing a bruise, for castle

PG-ish and also on ao3.

She won’t ask. She doesn’t, these days.

He comes home – this alone is a strange enough concept – looking like she’s assuming the other guy is dead somewhere but it was a fairer fight than usual. Blood, so much blood, but dried enough she’s not going to have to fix him. Moving slow like-

“Bathroom. Now.”

They could do this without words, Karen thinks sometimes. The routine of it, this man who still burns but at least he comes home to her now, she thinks as she turns on the sink and grabs the kit, at least he came home in one piece tonight and her standards are lower than the deepest ocean and-

“Stay still?”

He listens to her. She thinks she might be the only person he’s listened to in a damn long time.

Wet washcloth on skin. Glances at the mirror behind her and what a sight they make, this routine that’s become more nights than it isn’t and she doesn’t even know what he’s chasing anymore, she never does until she gets tangled up by mistake and then-

Her fingers pause on what might be a bruise on his jaw, too early to call but the swelling is there if not quite the color. “Do I want to know?”

“Do you ever?”

She rolls her eyes, turns her head for a moment so he doesn’t see the full reaction and at least his back is towards the mirror, at least she’s done that right. “You know I-“

“Doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Not yet it doesn’t.”

“If I’d known how easy you worry…”

“One of us has to.”

She presses her lips to the blooming bruise, waits for reactions, doesn’t get any that worry her. She’d asked him to be still and he is; she’d asked him to be hers, on a night too much like this one, and he has been, and-

“’Ren-“

A normal kiss will fix this, fix them. Too much talking not enough trying to move past this, trying to pretend like she doesn’t feel anything when he comes to her looking like that and she has to bite the inside of her lip and pretend-

“You worry me, Frank.”

He kisses her this time, like he’s avoiding that conversation too for the same reasons she is, like there are worse things they could do than make out in a small space and ignore whatever other bullshit injuries he’s collected tonight and-

Speaking of.

“What else are you hiding from me?”

“Forget you’ve got a good eye.”

“If this goes further, I’m going to see. Tell me what I’m going to see.”

“Bruises. Lot of ‘em, but don’t think anything worse.”

She’ll believe that when she lays eyes on his skin, but… that’s easy enough to do, and he’s aware where her mind is at and moves accordingly, sheds layers like the mundane routine this unfortunately is and yeah, shit, he wasn’t kidding about bruises as a concept but nothing looks broken, nothing’s bleeding that she didn’t see… this is what counts as a good night, Karen thinks, and maybe that baseline needs some work but-

“Okay if I kiss the rest of those?”

He gives her a look she takes as a yes, and she does. His shoulder will be some fun colors in the morning, she thinks, but everything is in places that make sense, places his gear doesn’t cover quite well enough and-

“You do what you needed to do?”

She stopped judging him long before she let him into her spaces, she reminds herself. This is who he is; this is what he needs. She still wants it to stop, someday, but-

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

[frvnkcastles]

hiii, can you pls make one where reader have anorexia and frank helps her to eat? i love the way you write

❤️

SAY YOU’LL STAY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with eating, and Frank wants to help.

Warnings: Unspecified eating disorder, feminine nicknames, brief mentions of Frank’s loss, language

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: Thank you for your kind words anon! I struggle with binge eating myself so I wanted to kind of pour my own experiences into this as well and that’s why I never specify what eating disorder the reader struggles with, just that she does struggle with one. Hopefully that also makes this relatable to a wider audience. I like to think that Frank is a good cook, just doesn’t really cook until you come along and suddenly he has someone to do it for. And he’d help you with your disordered eating step by step. <3

You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit, doubting the way you looked — but one glance at your disarrayed closet confirmed that you had been through all the potential looks already, and you needed to just accept this one as what it was. Exhaling deeply, you smoothed your shirt down and hesitated before finally just grabbing your keys and phone from the dresser and heading for the front door.

When Frank had asked you out on a date, you had been over the moon. You had been not-so-subtly into him for a long time, but you had never made a move in the fear that he didn’t feel the same way, so when he had done it for you, your heart had sung. It was the first time in a long time for both of you, and neither of you really knew how to act. Somehow, though, all your enthusiasm had been sucked out of you when he had suggested dinner at his place. In hindsight, it would have been so easy to propose something else, but in the moment you had frozen and simply agreed to his idea.

And just like that, it turned from an exciting first date with the man you were head over heels for, into a meal you dreaded. You weren’t able to see the date for what it was — you fixated on the eating aspect of the upcoming evening, and it was consuming your brain. You weren’t even nervous about being alone with Frank anymore, you were just worried about eating.

Still, you showed up on time, your heart momentarily soaring again when Frank met you at the door with a subtle smile and rolled-up sleeves. He looked beyond handsome, and before you could begin to doubt your own outfit and how your body looked in it, he had washed away your anxieties.

”You look stunnin’. Come in, sweetheart”, he praised while guiding you into his small but cozy apartment, and fiddling with your fingers, you thanked him and flashed a shy smile at him that pleased him all too much. He wasn’t going to admit to it so early on, but he was nervous too, more than was visible from his confident appearance — he really liked you, and to have this chance was irreplaceable to him.

Frank ushered you to sit at the dining table where he had already gathered his pots and pans, displaying an entire feast for the two of you, and your heart sank. It was so much food, and all of it looked so well-made and it only teared you apart on the inside even more. He had put so much effort into this date, and you weren’t sure you could get through one bite.

Frank was completely oblivious to the inner turmoil storming inside of you, his usually quiet self doing all the work to make small talk while piling food onto his plate. He offered some for you, and you weakly agreed, feeling sick to your stomach as the heaps of food built over your plate, certain that it was going to force an ugly side out of you that you weren’t ready for Frank to see.

Eventually, you realized that chatting with him was actually a great way to distract yourself from the food in front of you. You could blame not eating on getting lost in the conversation, make a joke about it, anything to get out unscathed. And for a moment there, you really did enjoy yourself — you enjoyed Frank’s company, the way he treated you with such kindness and gentleness, always respectful and interested in hearing more about you.

But unsurprisingly, he did realize that the food wasn’t disappearing from your plate.

”The food not to your likin’, sweetheart? I did ask you for your preferences”, he approached the subject with care, as he always did with you, and you felt awkward heat crawl to your cheeks because of being called out.

”It all looks great, Frankie. I guess I just lost my appetite”, you chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of your neck before pushing the plate a little further away from yourself.

Tilting his head to meet your eye, Frank licked his lips. ”Sure that’s all? You’ve seemed a little… I dunno, on edge all night. Here I was thinkin’ it’s just my handsome face but maybe there’s somethin’ else on your mind”, he made a half-hearted joke, but the frown on his face was truly concerned for your well-being, and it only twisted the knife in your heart.

”It’s not really a first-date topic”, you spoke quietly, suddenly feeling utterly ashamed, but Frank was quick to reassure you, his hand shooting from under the table to cover yours in a protective hold.

”Hey, I’ve already opened up about losin’ my family which ain’t exactly wholesome conversation material, either. Not gon’ pressure you into anythin’, but just sayin’. You can talk to me, sweetheart”, his voice was full of understanding, and god, if it didn’t melt your racing heart.

You swallowed. You supposed you did owe him an explanation, and he was right, he had opened up to you about his biggest losses and faults. If you two were to have any kind of relationship, it needed to be equal. And so, you took in a deep breath.

”I—I struggle with eating. Have for years. I don’t have a very healthy relationship with food and I’m afraid if I eat this admittedly delicious-looking meal, I’m going to spiral so hard out of control that it’ll wreck me entirely”, you admitted, all in one slurred speech, your eyes cast downwards as you waited for Frank to withdraw his hand and look at you in an entirely different light.

But he didn’t. His hand stayed firmly where it was, supporting you as he processed what you had told him.

”Shit, sweetheart. I can’t say it’s a topic I know a lot about, but I do know that I wouldn’t let you spiral like that. I wanna help, so whatever I can do, you just tell me, aight?” he promised, and silently, you nodded. You both sat in silence for a while, and he strongly felt like what he had said wasn’t enough. So, he continued. ”Doesn’t make you any less amazin’ in my eyes. You’re still a strong, gorgeous lady I’m kinda fallin’ real hard for. And I’d like to learn more so I can support you however you need me to.”

You finally met his eye, looking up with genuine amazement and wonder in your gaze. How could someone be so understanding, so kind, so… perfect? And how did you get so lucky to be here with him?

”I’d like to try the food”, you started carefully, and the joy that bloomed on Frank’s made you giddy on the inside. ”But will you be the voice of reason when I start to regret it? I—I really don’t want to make it your responsibility—”, you stuttered, but Frank swiftly intervened.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll be here for you. I won’t let your thoughts win this round”, he assured you, and softly, you broke into a smile.

”Thanks, Frankie. For supporting me and for cooking. This has been a really nice date”, you squeezed his hand with sincerity, and returning the smile, Frank reached with his other hand to brush a stray hair away from your face.

”Any time, gorgeous.”

[georgiapeach30513]

Hi there long time no talk! I hope you’ve been good recently🤡

I’ve been around just never have much to input into the convo besides “thots” lol. But this time I do!

I saw the trailer and it’s kinda what I expected since the supposed first poster on the IMDB page I think. I liked it, I thought I’d in be the majority opinion but some of the online chatter I’ve seen has been kinda harsh or disappointed. Sure there’s some line deliveries or certain lines that I feel were falling flat but that’s probably more personal preference then a legit critique. Overall it looks like a good movie that’ll make me happy to see it. Maybe I’m just to early in looking so I’m just gonna avoid that just talk where I know people are kinda excited for it and theory craft there (here included)

I know Nancy has mentioned this in her blog about how it’s giving Nancy Meyer’s romcom movies and that’s what I was thinking too! From the “first” poster it was reminding me of Something’s Gotta Give and It’s Complicated and also a bit of How Do You Know? And feel that’s the direction Celine is going for where the romance/comedy isn’t the revolving story but the main heroine’s personal reflection of it that’s the driving force of the movie. Yeah there’ll be moments of comedy and romance but I think you’re suppose to leave thinking about how you see romance yourself. I have a theory that it’ll kinda like It’s Complicated where most of the screen time is focused on the exes (Dakota/Meryl & Chris/Alec Baldwin) but the endgame couple is the new romance that’s implied right near the end (Steve Martin/Pedro). What do you think?

For the official posters, why do I have a feeling that the first one was like a little nod to Chris from Celine? Like they looked like they got close during filming so when she saw it was his birthday she did a little cute thing for him as for something between them. Or I’m just deluding myself and it really is a coincidence haha.

Second one is a solid 7/10 poster for me. My only thing would be for Chris to pop that hip more. Like sir, we know you have a princess waist, pop it!

Oh and finally. My thots. From the Gym pics to Caesar’s Palace and finally the recent fan pics. I only for one thing to say. BROAD. So so broad. I’m so happy shoulder workouts are his favorite it makes home look so big. HMPH, I had to bite my thumb.

But yeah those have been my thoughts a little longer than I expected. Again hope you’ve been good and if you haven’t I hope things get so much better.

I have been doing decently, 🤡anon. Hope you've been doing well, too!

I love when you chime in with your thots, but also with your thoughts! I think you have a very keen on for things, it's refreshing!

You want to know what I really hate about the online chatter? Those are the same people complaining that we don't have original movies. That everything is a remake, and that they don't make movies like they used to. Here enters Celine, and is delivering all that, and you're still not happy. Sometimes there will be people that will complain to complain, and to those people I say 😝

I love that this movie seems to be doing some callbacks. It's refreshing. But I cannot wait to see Celine's take on this, especially as someone who was a matchmaker. I have two minds with this, the way you're looking at it. That we see Dakota/Chris in the present, yes, but also where they were in the past and why they didn't work out. As for who she will choose, I am going with Pedro OR she's choosing herself, and leaving with neither.

I thought Celine and Chris' relationship on set was so cute. He really seemed to absorb everything she was saying, and he seemed to respect her. There's several photos of him almost beaming at Celine. He seemed to have a good time while filming, and was getting back into the smaller movies that I do think he enjoys. Chris truly does well when a director knows how to utilize his talents. I think he pulls off subtly well. It's why I love Frank so much.

There are several photos from that shoot for the posters. I wonder if we'll ever some of the alternates. I have seen a few of Chris' face. So we shall see how that continues. But I like the poster. It's nostalgic, and puts me in the mind frame of those romantic dramedys.

Chris seems to be working his arms, which is quite odd considering he hasn't announced another project for this year. I wonder why that could be? He's got me completely stumped 🤭🤭😏

As always, anon, I love when you stop by. You're always more than just thots, but I do love your thots!!

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Out of the siblings, and Mickey as well if you want, who do you think was clingy as a toddler and who was the "Let me down! Let me out of this stroller! I can walk by myself!" toddler?

IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ASK I LOVE IT SM

since there’s so many of them i dont think that just one sibling could be one of these. it has to be at least two.

ian and debbie were definitely both clingy as toddlers imo.

according to frank, ian’s been a “drama queen” since the day he was born so i think he was clingy. i could see him following fiona around, begging her or monica to hold him constantly, or just trying to milk frank for as much attention as possible constantly. this is one of the many reasons frank never liked him. fiona would let him cling to her, monica would sometimes find it cute, but sometimes find it obnoxious, and frank would just get pissed at him for it. when he didn’t get attention from fiona or monica, he would just cry or get mad. he didn’t do that in front of frank, though, because it would never end well.

and we all know that debbie loves attention (me too, girl) so i think that she was always clingy… yet also independent? i think that she, like many toddlers, had a lot of mood swings. like, she would beg her parents or big siblings (or even kev and v) to hold her and play with her but then would get mad at them for doing so and would scream and hit them. she was (and still is) very into being independent, but she also needed all eyes to be on her and she needed comfort and attention. she has totally followed fiona all around the gallagher house, whining about wanting fiona to hold her, and when fiona begrudgingly does, debbie starts kicking and screaming and yelling, “put me down! put me down!”.

lip was definitely all the way a “put me down!” type of toddler. for all of lip’s toddler years, he was canonically homeless, so i don’t know if it would’ve been the same, but i could see fiona trying to pick lip up and lip just getting mad and hitting her. maybe frank and monica got wasted and left the three eldest children alone in a park or something, and lip and ian would be walking too slow, being that they were so little, so fiona would scoop ian up and have no problem, and she would try to drag lip and hold his hand, but he’d just throw a tantrum. lip definitely threw a lot of tantrums.

i think carl was also like lip in this way, sort of, except he was quieter about it. i could see carl being more physical, like biting or scratching or hitting if someone wouldn’t put him down, but i don’t think he’d yell or anything. being that he was the baby of the family until he was seven, he was probably dragged around a lot, and he probably hated it. we know that as a child he was very… hyper, for lack of a better word, and i bet he was constantly biting. we heard a story about toddler carl in 9x06, and he sounds very chaotic, as always.

and since you said mickey, i’ve been thinking about it, and i really can’t decide.

maybe when he was little he wanted attention from terry (and laura, whoever she was. if she was around or alive. the lore on her is so messy so let’s just say she was dead so only terry), but learned the hard way that he couldn’t get it, so he started building up walls at an early age. but maybe colin and iggy would drag him along with them to go places and they would pick him up, but mickey wasn’t used to the touch, and so he would scream and kick, bite, scratch, punch, etc until they put him down. deep down he was probably very clingy and he desperately wanted the touch, but he never really got to be so he just buried it deep inside.

[ethernetmeep]

attempt at general writing of a days events — starts early, forget the dream. wake up. consider taking a shower beforehand, like i used to do. i didn’t although i had the time & logically i wouldn’t have been too cold. play games. time arises close by, get ready. embroidered fish crewneck & long brown trench coat. detailed brushing of teeth & hair. the leading up is not the main focal point; however it is a bit chaotic as all things are

i will skip the parts where i mention personal things of others if it is inappropriate. the car ride to the center is filled with discussion, mostly about animals & birds. it feels nice. we pass the boating access i would go to with my grandmother as a young child, tell him i would like to take him there someday. (see connection to post months old about wishing to take someone there.) this time it indeed felt true, raw, ‘real’, for lack of a better word. low tide

when we get there, we explore. taxidermies. the doe one is beautiful, they all are. i believe i will provide images in another post, as this will be long. look at all the different mammals & birds & mustelids. mustelid, a fascinating word. go inside, silent auction & bake sales. i have $13 to my name, except i don’t. i have $9 & one is a two dollar bill so technically $7. participate in a bird lover raffle of various bird seeds & houses. likely won’t win, but nice to contribute.

if i try to put into words the experience, i feel as if i constraint it; this is the last thing i want. it was wonderful, i was alive. i was truly alive. many talks & speeches, many excited children. that is all i can really say. even then, the words used aren’t right. this is the problem with trying to write everything i experience, because writing is both a blessing & a curse. i can only describe physical things comfortably, not how they make me feel..? see, even now i am lost.

owls, birds, everything lovely in the world. he buys me a cupcake. i am grateful. before he has to leave for work, we sit & watch the show that is being set up. he leaves before it starts, but he offers me a small piece of his molasses cookie. i did not think i would like it, to be frank. i take the bite & it goes as follows:

[CYBER puts the small piece of molasses cookie in his mouth. he stares at the grass underneath him in front of where he sits. he does not say anything as he chews, simply feeling. his expression is blank.]

B: “SO…. HOW IS IT?”

[CYBER delays his response, still staring at the ground. his face is still blank. realizing this expression retains that of DISLIKE, he puts his pointer finger up, an attempt to show he is thinking.]

[CYBER stays silent for a second longer. even as CYBER writes this, he forgets what he says verbatim; he knows most of it, but the order may be wrong. he wants you to know that.]

CYBER: “IT’S…… IN A GOOD WAY, IT IS LIKE ENTERING CHRISTMAS TREE SHOP AS A KID AND SEEING ALL THE LIGHTS. IT IS ALSO LIKE MAKING A GINGERBREAD HOUSE WITH MY GRANDMOTHER WHEN I WAS YOUNGER.”

[slight silence.]

B: “AND IN A BAD WAY?”

[CYBER smiles. he realizes there is no bad way.]

[not this time.]

abnormal writing aside, it was good. it was like gingerbread but wasn’t, just a hollow shell of it. in a good way. he texted me once he left & wanted to make sure i was okay. he will hopefully never see this but even if he does by some circumstance, i hope he knows i appreciate him. he reminds me there is good & there is joy… he reminds me i can be myself & all its imperfections. only qualm is we sometimes talk over each other but we are thinkers for a reason & like to finish what we say. its nice, actually. not even a qualm. i am glad to have him in my life.

not to be too absurd, but i do believe he is the person my therapist had in mind when she said i would find someone that was an intricate thinker but also be able to reciprocate the care i hold for others

he also did not make fun of me for being excited by the radiation & biohazard signs. it was nice

[poppitron360]

Esperanza as a character fascinates me and I’m so intrigued by the idea of the world from her perspective. She’s very much thinking along the same lines as Sally Jackson (and I think it’s sad that Leo and Percy are so similar except for the fact that Sally survived). She’s completely alone- a single mother trying to make it in a male dominated industry, trying to keep food on the table, unable to talk to anyone about her fears and worries for her son because who would understand? Who can she tell? The Greek Myths are shitshows and horror stories as it is but to an already frightened mother I can’t imagine what she must have felt when Leo was young. She must have been terrified that she’s just raising her son to die. And you know what? She was right. He did die.

And the differences and similarities in Leo’s and Jason’s upbringings- the fact that Leo was raised with love and care and affection and Jason was raised with none of that and yet they were both massively screwed over by the universe. And it doesn’t even occur to Jason to not be the one to sacrifice himself not only because he cares for Leo too much but also he was programmed from an early age that that is what he’s supposed to do- that’s his place in the world.

And so they’re both convinced they have to fill these archetypal roles- Jason as the Hero and Leo as the comic relief and sidekick- but neither of them really want that. And even though they swap roles in the big finale with Gaia and it seems like they’ve subverted that they still end up filling those roles later on. Jason dies a hero and Leo is pushed to the side again. For a universe whose first series was all about breaking oppressive cycles Rick sure likes to put the later characters in oppressive cycles.

Basically every problem I have with the Riordanverse boils down to “Rick tried to fit nine main characters into five books and ended up biting off more than he can chew”:

- Gaia is one-note and not given any nuance

- Basically half of TOA is spent hastily wrapping up arcs and almost EVERYONE’S (the only exception, sadly, being Jason) endings get rushed with little thought

- The finale of HOO was incredibly underwhelming as nobody except for the Lost Trio really did anything in the final battle

- Nico and Reyna’s POVs felt like add-ons and there wasn’t enough time to explore them in detail

- FRANK AND HAZEL ONLY GET TWO BOOKS WITH POVS.

- And so much more. You name a problem with the Riordanverse, it’s probably because of that.

This is a conversation that I will bring up over and over again because I too have so much beef with TOA and it’s tainted most of my enjoyment of the other books.

Also, Leo’s death was handled so badly. I actually hate that his friends got to find out he was alive before he came back, so they ended up just being pissed off instead of grieving. We as readers never feel the effect his loss had on the characters which makes the big heroic sacrifice so unsatisfying. There’s no actual consequences to his death, so that big build up was for nothing. This is why I’m a big fan of Leo with prosthetics/hearing loss/whatever after the explosion because at least that gives us some sort of sense that he actually sacrificed something, not just an apparent sacrifice that got reversed a chapter later. He’s not even given any visible trauma for it (to be fair, Leo’s whole schtick is that he hides his pain, so we wouldn’t see it from Lester’s POV, but still), I’d like to have seen a moment between Leo and Apollo, perhaps where Apollo regrets the part he played in giving Leo the ingredients to the cure instead of trying to stop him from Kamikaze-ing himself into unalive status (I’ve always had this idea in my head of Apollo asking if Leo would still have gone through with his plan if he didn’t have the cure, and Leo saying yes- it would have been a perfect fit to the whole “Apollo learns about sacrifice arc” that takes place throughout the whole five books but starts ramping up at around the Dark Prophecy when Apollo admits for the first time he’d give his life up for his friends) This is probably a separate Rant Post I’ll threaten to make and never get around to it, but I have so many thoughts about this it’s unreal. I am unwell I think.

Hands down one of the funniest things about tlh Valgrace is how badly Leo wants them to be in some sort of imbalanced rivalry/prince and stablehand situation but Jason just. Being way too nice for it to work?

Leo: I am worse than you in every way imaginable. I hate your stupid good looks and the fact that you’re this perfect hero and I will never measure up to you.

Jason: Incorrect! Actually you’re incredible and better than me in so many ways and I wish I could do half the stuff you do! You’re so cool! I’m so lucky to know you and love that we’re best friends :D

Leo: …what the hell is happening

[oneforthemunny]

​​you and bouncer!eddie fucking in the walk-in during a closing shift.

minors dni 18+

it's just the two of you on a wednesday night- too cold for even the drunks to venture out. you hadn't had much cleanup besides the few beers you served to frank, a regular, and you'd finished that before close.

eddie had sat at the bar with you, closest to the door in case someone walked in, but they never did. his hands traced the fringe of your ripped jeans while the jukebox played. you were giggling, so close you were practically nose to nose.

the two of you had gone out a few times, already planning for the next time you both had a night off. you liked eddie, a lot. and he liked you. he especially liked that you surprised him. like how you were naturally good at darts. or how you knew every word to 'starry eyes', you'd serenaded him on your first date, tipsy and giggly while he was sure he was going to marry you, right then and there.

he was even more sure when you'd sucked him off in the bathroom of the bar he'd taken you to. knelt on the grimy, sticky floors, head bobbing and eyes locked to his. he had his ringed hands fisted in your hair, head tilted back on the graffiti stall walls of the bathroom, groaning and muttering how good you were. you'd swallowed his load without him even asking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. he'd kissed you hard, pressing you against the stall, uncaring.

eddie was hooked. so enthralled by you, and the excitement of your budding relationship. it was new, thrilling, and the best part, is no one at work knew. sure, they might see the little smirks and teasing banter you two had, but you'd always done that.

on night like tonight, you could be more yourselves, lingering touches and stolen kisses behind the counter.

you had finished loading the lemons up, going to dump the ice in the kitchen and stock away the unused produce for the night before you could leave. eddie insisted on helping you, muscles flexing when he lifted and dumped the ice down the sink.

eddie followed you into the walk-in, pinching your ass just to hear you squeal when you bent over. he wrapped you fully in his arms, your little giggles filling his ears as he pressed you against the cold, metal shelf.

"you look so pretty." eddie groaned, stamping kisses up and down your neck, biting and sucking on the skin that had you mewling and clawing at him.

"ed-ed, we can't. we're at work-"

"no one's here." eddie sighed against you. "just me and you, c'mon. been thinking' about you all night." you whined when his hands went lower, cupping you through your jeans, rough fingers pressed hard against your slit.

you gave in, letting him pull your jeans and panties down, lifting your shirt and bra up over your boobs. he smirked at the way your nipples hardened in the cool air of the walk-in, leaving your shuddering under his glare.

moments later, he had you clawing at a shelf, bent at the hips so your ass was pushed back into his face. eddie was on his knees, spreading your cheeks and lapping at your clit like his life depended on it. he grabbed the doughy skin of your ass, squeezing it and moaning as you shimmied back further into him, begging and gasping.

once he added his fingers, slipping them in slow into your sopping hole, you were shaking, writhing in pleasure. eddie pressed kisses to your ass cheeks, up your spine and to the back of you neck until he stood at his full height, pumping himself a few times before sinking into you with a grunt.

he anchored his hands on the shelf above you, hips snapping furiously into yours, eyes rolling back at the sound of your echoey moans in the freezer. the buzz of the cold air filling the space, mixed with your breathy demands of, "please, eddie, right there!" had his abs tight, gritting his teeth to keep himself from cumming too early.

you came undone quickly, your first orgasm leaving you sensitive and mushy. eddie watched as you dropped to your knees, finishing him off with swallowing him wholly. he fisted your hair, guiding your head on his cock again, groaning when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough to get him twitching and spilling down your throat.

you turned off the lights and machines on shaky legs, clinging to his arm when he walked you to your car. you wrapped your arms around his torso, smirking up at him as he finished off his cigarette.

"wonder when we get to close again together, hm?" eddie smirked. "think we should make that a new closing task for us- fuck in the walk-in after close. whaddya think, baby?"

[doevademe]

Prompt: I have always loved the idea that both Percy and Nico come to the same person to rant about how much they pine for each other but they can’t be together be they are dumbasses, and it’s always Jason due to him typically being their third of their trio, but do want to know who I think would be funnier? Frank, who is Nico’s sister’s boyfriend and who is distantly related to Percy. I can see them both going to frank because 1) Frank is just an overall sweet guy who will you can kinda just talk to with having any snappy comments in return (you know characters like Annabeth, Leo and Jason would absolutely make fun of the both of them) and 2) frank is lowkey a pushover and would absolutely not be able to stand up to Percy and Nico using him as an emotional bucket to dump into. Frank is over here suffering just wondering how he got roped into this mess of a relationship.

Frank Zhang often wondered what had landed him in this position.

Maybe he was too nice, maybe he needed to practice saying 'no' once in a while, maybe he had been unlucky enough.

His bet was on him making a dumb comment once after walking in on something he shouldn't have.

It had been early in the morning and he had been going on his way to the senate, when he saw Percy's back as he leaned against someone suggestively.

Now, he knew it wasn't Annabeth, as they had broken up a while ago, but the way Percy covered the other person with his body was a little too intimate for the public street, at least in his opinion.

"Please don't do that in public," he had said before noticing, and Percy jumped to separate himself from... his future brother-in-law, Nico di Angelo.

"We weren't doing anything!" Percy had shouted, face red. "Just... talking about breakfast!"

Nico nodded quickly, as red as Percy.

Frank nodded carefully, fully prepared to move on and try to forget this ever happened, unaware that he had signed his death sentence.

"And he just... doesn't notice!" Percy said, frustrated. "I have tried everything, telling him he looks nice, invinting him to dinner, I even touched his ass!"

Frank looked around, hoping no one in the bistro had heard his friend/distant uncle, but was disappointed when he caught a few people looking at them discreetly.

"Just... he'll never see me as anything but a friend," he said, sulking.

"You know, you could be direct with him," he tried. "Just tell him how you feel."

Percy looked at him as if he had gone crazy.

"Are you insane? What if he doesn't feel the same?" Percy said. Frank was vaguely aware that his cofee with milk had gone cold a while ago. "It will ruin our friendship! I rather have Nico as a friend that not have him at all!"

Frank groaned. This was a test, maybe by his father to see if he would finally kill his nemesis. But Frank didn't have it in him to be that ruthless, and Percy was one of his closest friends...

"If only there was a way to know what he thought about me," he lamented, making the Praetor bite his tongue.

Yeah, if only someone could tell him that Nico felt the same... someone who hadn't been sworn to secrecy.

He had had to brush up his mythology trivia after he hadn't remembered what swearing by the Styx meant twice.

"Well, I need to get to class." Percy sighed and finished his cold cofee in one quick gulp. "Thanks for listening, Frank, you're the best."

The son of Mars gave a feeble smile and waved him off.

He paid for his part of the bill and went towards the fields of Mars, where he bumped into Nico.

"Frank," he greeted, face inescrutable like always. "Nice seeing you today."

"Uh, same," he said lamely. "I'm actually on my way to oversee some training drills so..."

"Are you free for lunch?" Nico asked, looking like he didn't care. Frank paled, but nodded after Nico stared at him intensely. "Great, the usual place, then?"

"O-okay..."

----

Hazel had been overjoyed over him spending more time with Nico. Having the most important men in her life be friends was everything to her.

If she knew why they hung out so much however... maybe she'd feel some pity for him.

"I just... can't understand him," Nico said, groaning into his pasta. Frank counted his blessings that at least Nico was much quieter. "Like, he touched me... inappropriately, yesterday, but after I asked he just said his hand slipped."

When Percy had chosen him as his confidante, he had said it was because they were friends, and since Percy had helped him get together with Hazel, so Frank felt as if he owed him.

Nico, though? He had been blunt and honest. He had just said, "you saw, please help me," and Frank was still very intimidated by the son of Hades to say no.

"And at this point, maybe he's telling the truth!" Nico exclaimed. "Maybe it's all in my head! I mean, Percy has always been a very touchy person, it... it could mean nothing..."

"Maybe you are the one that needs to be forward?" he tried for the second time that day. "Don't tell him what you feel, just say how it comes off as and confront him."

"What if he denies it?" Nico asked. "I... I couldn't take the rejection... At least like this, I can pretend that he likes me like I like him."

Frank busied himself with his steak to not comment. Nico sighed again and took a sip of his wine.

"I don't say this often but, thank you for listening," Nico said earnestly. "You're a good friend, Frank."

Frank gritted his teeth as he gave a forced smile.

"Anytime, Nico."

It wasn't like he could say no.

----

"Also," Frank said loudly to the Legion. Hazel raised an eyebrow, that was all they had discussed for their daily activities. "Any children or Legacies of Mercury or Hermes should speak with me before dinner. Dismissed."

The Legion saluted and marched.

"What was that about?" Hazel asked curiously.

"I need someone capable of forging handwriting," he said.

Now Hazel was really worried.

"You're not getting into anything dangerous, are you?"

"Huh? No! Don't worry!" he reassured her quickly. "It's the opposite, I'm getting out of a messy situation."

Hazel looked at her boyfriend's expression and relaxed a little.

"Is it one of those situations you could get out of if you just said 'no'?" She asked knowingly. Frank stayed silent. "Oh, Frank..."

"It will be better for everyone, not just me," he said. "Hopefully."

And hazel could only pray he was right.

[phireflies]

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀

steve takes you to chicago to get your mind off of everything. [wc; 4.9k]

pairing; steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings; swearing, mentions of death (no one dies though), mentions of violence, this is set sometime after season 3 but not in season 4, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, and steve being cute, one bed trope... hehehe.... not edited at all oops again

an; title is from all my tomorrows by frank sinatra solely because of the line "and all my tomorrows belong to you". i also don't know what the art institute of chiacgo was like in the 80's so it's probably not accurate LOL

it was a month after starcourt had gone down in a fire, according to the news. you and the others knew what actually happened, and it hurt to keep that tucked away.

it had been a month, and you were still hurting. your body was still sore, some bruises never healed, and your brain seemed to be permanently fried.

everyone was scared still, scared about what they would do if it came back, or if someone died.

will, jonathan, joyce, and el had left for california. seeing everyone saying bye hurt, made it feel like your heart was being ripped apart. it was for the best though, everyone knew that.

now, you were standing on the curb with a bag waiting for steve to pick you up. a month ago, he appeared under your window, asking if you'd like to go on a trip with him. just you and him. you met steve during all of this, and he'd taken a liking to you. he wasn't at all like his high school self. you liked him, and he liked you. you just didn't know that.

it was cold, the air was biting at your cheeks. it was early morning, around 3 am.

you got lost in your thoughts, something that happened often. you would often find yourself back in the mall, back in the russian base underneath getting beat up and drugged.

the headlights of the maroon BMW had pulled you out.

steve got out and give you a small smile. he didn't say anything as he opened the trunk for your bag. he still had the bat in there, just in case.

once you two got into the car, he smiled. "hi."

"hi."

"i'm sorry if this is weird." he apologizes. he was a new friend, and he thought that going on a trip with you was strange. it wasn't that strange.

you shook your head. "it's not. thank you for this."

"figured we needed a break, yeah?"

you nodded. "yeah. i'm scared though."

he started the car and began to drive off. "of what? i'm not gonna kill you."

you chuckled. "i didn't think you were. i'm just scared that... that something will happen when we're gone. like dustin will get into some shit and we won't be there to help."

steve glanced at you. he wished he wasn't driving so that he could stare at you more. he decided that it was stupid and weird of him to think that. "they'll be fine. i may or may not have threatened him. i think he'll be okay."

"i hope so. god, i'm just so, i don't know. i don't know."

"i know. me too."

steve reached over the center console to grab your hand where it rested on your leg. he was always one to engage in physical touch. it took you some time to get used to it.

"the drives like three hours. maybe more if we decide to stop." he says. the radio wasn't on, the only thing you could hear was his breathing and the engine. "you ever been to illinois?"

you shake your head. his hand was still on yours. your skin burned. "no. my mom always said it was cool though. you?"

"nope. my dad said the same thing. he's always up there for work trips. but uh, about your parents - they don't care?"

"i didn't tell them, but they wouldn't care. i think it's better that i'm gone, that they don't have to deal with me." you laugh, trying to hide the fact that you were almost in tears. your parent's attitudes had changed after starcourt. they hated that you had changed, that you weren't as smiley and carefree.

steve smiled at you. "i get that. fuck parents."

"fuck parents." you agreed.

you and steve had bonded over your family situations. he would call whenever he couldn't sleep, and most of the time you couldn't either. it was either his parents were gone and he was left alone, or his dad had said awful shit to him.

you had gotten so close to steve over the months that you would consider him your best friend. it angered you that his parents hurt him the way they did.

"are you okay?" you ask. it felt weird to ask that because he wasn't okay. no one really was.

his face was still bruised, and his cuts were still healing. "i'm hanging in there. are you okay?"

"hanging in there." you repeat. "your face has gotten better."

he laughed. "started taking care of the cuts and stuff, you'd be amazed at what a difference that can make."

"i bet. my back is still sore. can't believe that guy just threw-" you stop yourself and take a deep breath. "sorry. i'm glad you're hanging in there."

"glad you're hanging in there too." he stops at a red light and takes the opportunity to look at you. really looked at you. you were sure you looked tired, that you had bags and dark circles under your eyes. "let me know if you wanna go back, i'll take you back."

"i don't wanna go back. i wanna stay here." with you.

"good." he smiled, patting your thigh. you felt extremely cold when he put his right hand back on the steering wheel.

once you got out of hawkins fully, the air seemed lighter. it wasn't stale, it didn't hurt to breathe. steve seemed to feel it too, taking a deep breath at the "you are now leaving hawkins" sign.

"i wish we didn't have to come back." you say.

"me either, but the kids."

"the kids. one of these days."

he sighed. "i hope we can all leave sometime. maybe join the byers in california."

"i don't think i'd fit in there." you admit. you had this growing pain in your chest that you were never meant to leave indiana, that you were stuck in hawkins.

steve looks over and raises an eyebrow. "i think you'd fit in perfectly. you could definitely become a great actress or artist, maybe you could write books and stuff."

"i can't do all those things, steve."

he smiled. "yeah you can. i wish you could see how talented you are, babe."

babe. it played over and over again in your head. babe. babe. babe.

steve always used pet names, babe included. every time it gave you goosebumps. "whatever you say, harrington. you'd have a bigger chance of making it in la."

"'cause of the hair, yeah?" he asks and you nod. "knew it. my best feature, right?"

you wanted to be honest and say, no, your eyes, smile, and freckles. "yeah, you are steve the hair harrington, after all."

"oh shut up." he teases. he doesn't want to shut up. he could listen to you speak for hours on end and never get tired.

you finally reach the highway and you're really on your way to chicago. it's smooth sailing from now on. "do you have any plans for us? i don't know what there is to do in chicago."

he shrugs. he can feel his hands burn like they should be on you. you were ice that could relieve the pain. "i heard about some photography exhibits at the art institute. you like photography, right?"

"it's cool. i think that'd be fun."

"i think there's other things if that sounds boring, i didn't really think it through i'm sorry."

"steve." you cut him off. "it's okay, i think it'll be fun. i'm sure they'll be other things to look at too." you two share a look. "it'll be fun with you, i promise."

steve smiles. he can't form words. with you.

he looks around for a gas station. his tank was nearly empty. "shit, i didn't even think to fill up before i left. sorry."

"it's alright."

he finds a gas station and pulls into it. "do you want water? or like, corn nuts? i can go inside and get them."

"no, i'm fine. thank you though."

while steve was focused on the pump, you took the time to really look at his outfit. he had on an old and worn shirt with basketball shorts. and he looked good.

looking down at your outfit, you realized that while you wore basically the same things, you didn't look like him.

you had on gray shorts, cut from an old pair of sweatpants that had gotten too short. you had on a t-shirt, one that was probably your dad's. it was large on you, nearly covering your shorts.

"alright, let's get on the road again," he says, climbing back into the car.

it was still so early that the sun wasn't up yet. it excited you though, the thought of seeing steve in the sunset, a beautiful wash of reds and pinks on his face.

"can i put my feet on the dash? i'll take off my shoes."

"go ahead."

your eyes widened because steve never let anyone put their feet up on the dashboard.

the road is long and winding, it almost puts you to sleep. in fact, you are asleep by the time the sun comes up. so much for seeing steve in the light.

"babe. i think we should get some coffee, yeah?"

steve didn't like coffee, you did. he brought you to a cafe for you. "are we in chicago?" you rubbed your eyes.

he shook his head. "no, but we are in Illinois. just got here."

you nod and rub your eyes. the sun was bright, making you squint. "coffee."

"yeah, up." he motioned for you to sit up and get out of the car.

you felt weird about going into a cafe, a nice looking one, in your sleep clothes. steve didn't seem to care, so you tried not to either.

"holy shit, thank god." steve muttered, eyeing the toast and eggs on the menu.

the waitress came over a couple minutes after you sat down. "what can i get for you folks? i think i saw you looking at the toast and egg plate? it's very good." her tone was overly flirtatious. she looked much too old to be flirting with steve.

"yeah, i'll get that. uh, water too, please."

"got it, and for you?"

you smile. "just a coffee please. no milk or anything."

the waitress nods and leaves.

"no food?"

you shrug. "not that hungry."

steve leans back in the booth and nods. "maybe i'll find a nice burger joint or something. that sounds good, no?"

"it does."

you're quiet, too quiet. it felt strange, steve felt strange. "you okay?"

you shrug. "still scared i guess."

he puts his elbows on the table and leans over. "wanna talk about it? i'm a good listener."

"i don't know. i just feel scared. i've got goosebumps all the time, even when i'm not cold." you close your eyes.

steve hooks his ankle with yours under the table. "considering what we all went through, i'd say that's normal. i've been getting nightmares real bad lately. robin said that's normal."

"i'm sorry," you say. you haven't been having nightmares, but then again, your whole life recently felt like a nightmare.

"s'alright." he's silent for a few seconds, staring at you. "is it weird if i ask to hold your hand?"

you almost choke. "uh, no, i don't think so."

he reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours. "you have nice hands."

"so do you." your voice is strained. he notices this and laughs.

"are you flustered?"

"oh my god, shut up."

he mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

"you're insufferable."

"it's just in my blood, baby." his voice is awful and strangely low. it makes you laugh.

you point to him with your free hand. "your lips are supposed to be sealed!"

you two fall into a fit of laughter that undoubtedly has the other occupants giving you dirty looks.

with steve, you could forget that the world existed around you. when you were with him, it was just you and him.

"here's your food, and your coffee. enjoy." the woman smiles.

"so," steve starts, his mouth full of food. "i was thinking we could get there as soon as the place opens, and i don't know, change in the backseat of my car. is that weird?"

you shake your head, sipping the hot coffee. "i don't think so, i've done it plenty of times."

"i was also thinking that we leave today too, i didn't pack enough for multiple nights, and i don't think you did either."

"i didn't."

"you're a mind reader, harrington. plus, i think i can only handle so much of chicago." you laugh.

he nods, finishing his food. "right! i found a cassette in my car, pretty sure max left it. it's stuff i don't really know but it'll be nice to listen to some tunes, yeah?"

you smile at him. he looks so good in the sun, in the cafe. he just looks good. "yeah, it does."

you two finish and steve pays. he almost shoves you out of the cafe when you insist on paying. something about wanting to do nice things. steve is always doing nice things though.

it's a lot warmer when the sun is up, but you think it may just be Illinois itself. it wasn't haunted by a looming evil, surely that contributed to the warmth.

steve drove slower, cruising. his hand found its way to your thigh again, making you scream inside. the windows were down and he had sunglasses on. the sun was high enough that he didn't really need them, but he looked good so you didn't mention it.

the cassette he found was full of random songs that either of you didn't know. it was nice though like you had a little piece of home with you.

"you okay?" steve asked, lowering the music slightly.

"i'm okay."

"good. you were daydreaming again. anything new?" he asks. steve knew about what you saw when you daydreamed, what you smelled, what you felt. all of it in starcourt.

you shook your head, looking out the window again. "nope. i'm used to it though."

"wish you didn't have to be." he tried to smile, but it came out all wrong. "wish you weren't with us at all."

"you're my friend, all of you guys are my friends. i'm just glad everyone's safe."

"me too, glad you're safe."

something about the way he spoke to you made your butterflies grow in your stomach. but he didn't like you, him holding your hand didn't mean he liked you, he was a friend. that's what friends do.

"you get dressed, i'll be outside."

"right, my epic guard." you laugh.

steve parked the car a ways away to allow the most privacy. privacy in chicago was hard to come by though.

steve was sitting on the hood of the car, his back to you. you changed quickly. a worn pair of blue jeans and a tank top. it was red with navy horizontal stripes. totally not appropriate for the weather.

you climbed out of the back and sighed. "think i'm ready."

steve turned around and gasped dramatically. "oh heavens!"

"what?" you thought something was on your face, or your hair was messed up.

"you just look really good. like awesome."

"awesome," you repeat. his face turns a pink color, making you laugh. "you look awesome too, harrington."

"shut up." he laughs, pulling you into his side. his arm is around your shoulder as he leads you to the institute. "excited?"

anything is fun with you, you wanted to say. "yes."

whatever exhibit was open behind those doors excited you. it could be anything, really.

inside, you could tell that you were underdressed, both of you. it was full of older people in nicer clothes. they probably understood art more than you too.

there was a sign that read "SCENES FROM THE SUMIDA RIVER". yeah, you were excited.

it felt like an eternity passed while you walked around looking at everything while steve followed behind. his feet were dragging a little, concerning you. "are you tired?"

he shook his head. "not really. feet just hurt a little."

"you can go sit down, i can continue on my own."

steve nearly shouted then, because he wouldn't leave you. he couldn't leave you. the way your face lit up when you saw something that you liked, whether that be an interesting texture in the painting or the subject's emotion.

"i like watching you. kinda like you're art." he winced as he said it, knowing it was cheesy.

"shut up, cheese ball." you laugh quietly. because of your attire, you and steve got strange looks from the older folk, and you didn't want to get any more from being loud. "thank you though. that's sweet."

"i'm sweet." he says it in a sweet voice. it fits.

"i'm almost done looking by the way. my feet hurt too."

"you having fun?" he asks, putting his hand on the small of your back. it's strange then, though you're used to the touch.

you nod and continue looking at the painting in front of you.

"what's the meaning behind this one?"

you shrug. "no clue, pretty though." steve nods, he agrees, though, he would argue that you're prettier. he's too nervous to say that though.

"there's a lot of old women here, think some of them want to come onto me." he whispers and smirks.

you laugh. "oh definitely, everyone wants to get a piece of steve harrington." you hit his chest and walk away.

"are we leaving?" steve calls, a little louder than he should be. he jogs to catch up. "i kinda wanna leave."

"yeah, i'm done looking."

“you have fun?” he asks.

you nodded. “a lot. i’ll have to come back and see what else chicago has to offer.”

steve’s quiet as he thinks. “would i be allowed to join?”

you laugh and fight the urge to hit his shoulder. “idiot, you’re the only one with a car. of course, you’re allowed to join.”

he pumps his fist up. "hell yeah!" it's like he's a little kid again. it's sweet. "alright, let's rock and roll." and you're off before you can chastise him for that saying.

"no fucking way." steve mumbles as he pulls over to the side of the road. the car was driving a little funny and there was a squeaking noise.

"what's going on?"

"something broke, maybe the brakes? or the whole engine might be fucked... god i don't know!" steve shuts off the engine and climbs out. his stance is something familiar, with his hands on his hips shaking his head.

you get out too. "assuming you can't fix cars?"

"you're funny. i'm gonna call a tow truck or something." and he's off to a payphone, cursing under his breath.

with the sun going down, you started to shiver.

looking around you, the small town you were in was quiet, with no traffic noise or people's car radios being too loud. thankfully, in case you needed it, there was a motel nearby. it didn't look the best, but it seemed to have some vacancy.

"hey."

"jesus! you can't sneak up on me like that!" you hold your hand to your chest. steve had a bad habit of sneaking up on you.

"sorry. i called, it's gonna come soon. also called dustin just in case."

you nod and shift on your feet, the temperature uncomfortable. "probably for the best. don't want him breaking down your door when we don't come back right away."

he laughs and blows out a long breath. "i think we should get a room for the night." he nods his head in the direction of the motel.

"i was thinking that. i'll go get a room while you wait for the truck."

before steve can protest and tell you to not pay for anything, you're already far away from him. you can almost hear him sigh humorously.

it's empty when you walk inside. the bell above you moving, but making no noise. there's no bell on the desk, either. to get whoever attention, you cough loudly. a man appears from behind the desk. he was just sitting there. avoiding you?

"sorry, do you have a room?"

"one." the man speaks in an awful british accent and you almost think he may be faking it.

you throw down some bills on the desk, probably too many. "keep the change." you say when you notice his wide eyes.

he hands you a key with tape on the head that has 15 scribbled on it. it's old, the tape is almost falling off, losing its stick. it's silent, the man doesn't speak again, just nods when you leave.

it wasn't hot inside, but it was a helluva lot warmer in rather than out.

"holy shit, that was weird," you say to steve as you approach him. the tow truck hadn't come yet.

"yeah?"

"hopefully won't have to deal with him any more than we have to. tow trucks gonna come soon, yeah?"

he nods. "are you cold?"

you begin to say yes and he's already receiving a jacket from the back. "better?" he asks when it's around your shoulders. the little bits of skin that his hands had grazed felt warmer than the jacket could ever make you.

"yes. thank you."

he pats both of your shoulders and smiles. "'course."

the tow truck pulls up with it's brights on, effectively blinding both of you. a scary man hops out and almost jogs over. steve stands up a little straighter.

"you steve?"

steve nods. "that's me."

they continue a conversation a little ways away from you, probably about where the car will end up and when it'll get fixed.

a few minutes later and the car is being hauled away.

"i hope she'll be okay." steve says quietly.

"the car? you don't need to be so sad about it, it's probably fine."

"fucking better be."

your bags were already sitting on the ground. steve didn't need to pick up your bag, but he did anyway.

"lead the way."

you swing the key ring on your finger and walk to the room. "i'm gonna be honest, i'm not expecting the best motel room. sorry if it's like, gross."

anywhere is okay with you, he wanted to say.

steve wasn't paying attention when you opened the door, startled by your shouting. "holy shit!"

just your luck, just your fucking luck. one bed. it's like in the movies.

"i can't believe this," you mumble.

steve sets down the bags and puts his hands on his hips, observing. "i can sleep on the floor."

"you aren't sleeping on the floor, it'll be fine. just... this sucks." you wince at your choice of words. "i mean, it doesn't suck, having to sleep with you - i'm gonna shut up now."

steve laughs loudly, making your face heat up. "you're awful."

"i think i need to shower," you say, retrieving your pajamas from earlier. you needed to freshen up if you were going to be in a bed next to steve harrington.

you've fought russians, sort of, and crazy interdimensional monsters. all while steve harrington was making you the most nervous. what a world.

when you got out of the shower and spent an eternity making yourself look presentable, steve had been waiting on the bed. he wasn't under the covers or anything, he was just sitting down and staring at the wall. the cream colors of the wall weren't interesting to him, it was you he was thinking of.

his heart was beating out of his chest, and he hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear it when you got out.

before he could try and think of anything to make him less nervous, there you were. although cheesy, he thought you looked like an angel, all glowy and fresh and nice.

"hi."

"hi." you say quietly, making your way to the bed. it was a full bed, thankfully not a twin. it seemed a perfect size, not too big and not too small.

"you smell different."

"i had to use those shitty travel size shampoo and conditioner things. they don't smell good."

"i wasn't gonna say anything bad, i think they smell okay."

the conversation felt easy and normal. you loved how it was like that with steve.

"i'm sorry that this whole thing got fucked." he said, his voice small. "just wanted to do something nice for you."

"it's not your fault, steve. you can't know when your car is gonna die." you want to reach over and grab his hand. he beats you to it.

it's quiet. every so often you can hear a car pass, or a screech on the road, or a honk. the only light was the orange-ish fluorescent from the street lights. even in shitty lighting steve looked good, he looked like steve.

"you look nice." he says, moving out of the way to allow more light to your face. "really nice."

"are you hitting on me?"

he laughs and shakes his head. "absolutely not." his voice is dripping with sarcasm. "maybe."

"god, you're awful. i'm gonna get robin to beat your ass for being awful."

"she'd love that."

again, you fall into a comfortable silence. his fingers are still intertwined with yours.

you want to make him laugh. you turn to sit in front of him with your legs underneath you. "do you have a crush on anyone?"

"oh my god, stop that. feels like eighth grade all over again." he laughs. mission accomplished. "i'm tired."

"me too, i'll stop being childish."

"best you do that, i think. i'm not gonna sleep much if i'm laughing."

you both laugh again. it's awkward when you both try to get under the covers. much to your dismay, he lets go of your hand. when you're both situated, he doesn't grab it again.

you are both facing each other, however. that's a plus.

"how often do you have nightmares?"

he shrugs as well as he can from his position. it's a little weird. "more often than not."

"i'm sorry. what do i do if you have one tonight?"

again, he shrugs. "dunno. i don't even know what to myself."

you turn on your back to look at the ceiling. popcorn ceiling. "i'm sorry." you say again. steve didn't move from his position on his side. he liked looking at you.

"it's alright."

he still stares at your side profile until he thinks you're nearly asleep.

"yes."

"hm?" you stir.

"to your question earlier, the crush one. yes. you?"

you shift to look at him, mirroring his position yet again. "yes."

he smiles, you smile, no more words need to be shared. the way he looked at you said everything.

"night," he says quietly.

you reply quietly. "night."

steve falls asleep first. you like that, it allows you to admire him. even slightly bruised and cut up he still takes your breath away. the fact that he's less than a foot away makes it even worse.

in the morning, steve is shirtless and his legs are intertwined with yours. it freaks you out a little bit.

he's stirring at the same time you wake up, not fully wanting to open his eyes.

you're looking at the freckles that are on his shoulders. like constellations.

"oh sorry, it got hot."

"shitty motel heating," you say. you don't want to make any notice to your legs, the closeness.

he laughs. "must be." he rubs his eyes. "it's bright in here."

"yeah, i was gonna get up and close the blinds but..."

he notices your legs and chuckles. "sorry."

"don't be." it's nice, you want to say. "i don't think you had a nightmare."

he thinks for a second. "no, i don't think i did."

"maybe we should do this every night," you say it like it should be a joke, and you hope steve takes it that way and laughs. he doesn't,

"maybe."

you are so close. so close.

he leans in and you feel as if you're going to explode. he's going to kiss you, he's 100% going to kiss you.

"i think we should go get the car," he smirks. it's awful. your face is hot and your eyes are wide.

"uh. definitely. yeah."

he untangles himself from you and puts his shirt back on.

inside of the mechanics is cold. the ac was on high, not much different than the chill outside.

whoever was working on his car was blasting music, old music.

you were drifting, it was easy to fall asleep when steve was pushed into your side.

steve's arm burned from how much he wanted to wrap it around your shoulder and pull you even closer to him. he hums the song he can hear. it's faint, but loud enough that he can hear the lyrics.

but i've got a lot of plans for tomorrow

and all my tomorrows belong to you.

he thinks of you. how he would like to spend all of his tomorrows with you, whether that be in chicago, or in a shitty motel with one bed, or in a russian secret base.

the underlying feeling of dread and hurt still lingered, but with steve by your side, it was a lot more bearable.

[timelesslords]

28 please!

28: “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.” send me prompts!

Percy turned the key in his and Annabeth’s apartment, surprised to find it unlocked. He would’ve gone in a little more carefully if Annabeth’s distinctive voice hadn’t been drifting in from the kitchen.

“...don’t worry about the cake, Sally’s bringing it. I just need you to get Frank and Hazel from the airport and to the restaurant before six. Percy’s shift isn’t done until then so that gives you guys plenty of time to set up.”

Annabeth was facing away from him, and for a brief second Percy considered turning around and leaving the apartment so he could pretend to re-enter much more loudly and with more warning, so it would seem like he had not heard what was very obviously a surprise birthday party plan his girlfriend was currently making for him over the phone.

His shift at the firehouse had ended early— someone had heard it was his birthday and offered to cover for him, and Percy had come home thinking he would get to take a nap in an empty apartment before his dinner plans with Annabeth had ended that night.

Before Percy could decide what to do, Annabeth was saying goodbye and hanging up the phone, and it was too late to turn around and pretend he’d just gotten back. So instead, Percy cleared his throat.

Annabeth jumped in surprise, whirling around, her eyes widening first in shock, then in horror of what he had probably heard. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Annabeth said, the tips of her ears turning pink. Percy laughed. He couldn’t help but think she looked really cute when she blushed.

“Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then,” he teased. She was standing strangely, and it took him a second to realize it was because she was holding something behind her back with one hand. 

“I thought you weren’t home,” Annabeth groaned, “Gods, you’re the worst. Why are you so sneaky?”

“Am I?” Percy asked, amused. 

“Very. You should make way more noise for how tall you are,” Annabeth said, sighing and leaning back against the counter. 

“So you’re planning a surprise party, huh?” Percy asked, grinning. Annabeth groaned again. 

“You have to pretend to be surprised,” she ordered, “I’ve been mean to everyone about keeping their mouths shut for weeks, if they found out I blew it at the last minute they’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“I’ll be very surprised. Completely shocked. Nobody will be able to tell,” Percy promised, though he was biting back a laugh.

“I’m doomed,” Annabeth said, listlessly.

“I can blame Frank instead of you,” Percy suggested, and Annabeth snorted.

“You know, that might actually work.”

“If my performance isn’t convincing enough I’ll give it a shot.”

“Good thing I’m a better actor than you,” Annabeth said. 

“I resent that,” Percy said cheerfully. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

“You think I’m going to spoil your surprise birthday party and your birthday present?” Annabeth asked, one eyebrow raised, “You’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

“Worth a shot,” Percy said, leaning down and kissing her softly. As he did, he inched his hand around her back, trying to grab at whatever she was holding, but she’d been expecting it and quickly switched to the other hand. 

“Better. I appreciate the effort,” Annabeth said, giving him one last peck before pushing him away. “Now close your eyes so I can go hide this in my purse.” 

“You’re no fun,” Percy complained, closing his eyes all the same.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise!” Annabeth called. 

“No, that was Frank, remember?” Percy called back, and Annabeth laughed.

“If you can manage to say that without sounding like you’re winking at me we might actually get away with this.”

Her voice was closer, close enough that Percy felt safe opening his eyes again. She was back to standing in front of him, hands empty.

“I’ll work on it,” Percy promised. “And I’m sorry for spoiling your surprise.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“It’s your surprise. I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful.”

“Well, thank you for planning it for me,” Percy said, “I’m sure you put a lot of work into it, and it’ll be perfect and fun regardless of if it’s a surprise or not.”

Annabeth smiled, but it was a little less soft than he’d expected and a bit more mischievous.

“Good thing the party wasn’t the only surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Percy asked, knowing there was absolutely no way Annabeth was going to give him so much as a crumb of a clue as to what she meant. Sure enough, she just grinned.

“You’ll see.”

[kingsroad]

do you think you could tell us about vhaena and viserys' kids, what theyre like, what they do in the dance etc? there r a lot of them so if u just wanna tell us about your favorites that works too!

thank you so much for this! i can't tell you how delighted i am to know that people are interested in their many, many children. this... got pretty long because i’m so excited to talk about them, lmfao. this is so fucking long and so fucking sad, i’m sorry.

alyssa lannister is the eldest by only a few minutes. she, along with her brother aenar, were born on dragonstone in 97 AC, six years before viserys became king. the people were concerned when they heard that she’d begun her labors, considering she’d only been married for seven months and they worried about how early the babes seemed to be coming.

they were both healthy and remained so for all of their relatively short lives. where alyssa was an enthusiastic horseman & dragonrider like her mother, aenar was a lush, eager to spend his days lounging around at court with a pretty girl or boy around to listen to him tell tall tales.

viserys hoped to wed them, but both he and his wife knew that the lannisters would never allow it, so by the time they were both fifteen, they were betrothed to loyal houses to be married in the interim.

rhaelys came third in 100 AC -- born with silver hair and one milky eye. he was a clumsy child, which is something he never truly grew out of. but he was also incredibly smart and loved learning about the history of the seven kingdoms rather than clinging to the subject of old valyria like so many targaryens before him.

he was a gem at court, even though his brother sought to outshine him at every corner. the older men and women of houses both failing and flourishing, the scholars brought to the capital from every corner of the known world, the maesters both ancient and fresh from oldtown — they all loved him for his interest in their stories.

the first of their children to truly distance themselves from the life they had to offer her was daenys. born in 101 AC, she was a quiet, sullen child almost from birth. the fact  that she rarely cried made both vhaena and viserys dote on her, worrying for their daughter’s health after the strange matter of rhaelys’s defect.

she was healthy, for the most part, but simply quiet. not shy, not simple, but quiet. with age, that quietness flourished into a frank and observant nature that often got her into a great deal of trouble. that said, while viserys refused to name any of their children as his favorite, daenys was the one he spent most of his time with.

maeron was the last of vhaena’s children born under the guise of lannister blood, though none of them were anything but viserys’s. he came about in 104 AC, just before the tourney celebrating viserys’s accession to king. he was a hearty child, always bloodying his knees in the courtyard or pushing around boys twice his size and sometimes managing to get the upper hand.

the kingsguard called him little fang due to his biting nature and the way he gnashed his teeth while training. he hated the nickname.

vhaena and viserys did not have another child until 108 AC, once vhaena returned from two years abroad following her divorce from jason lannister. this time, she did not take a husband. she was not named as viserys’s mistress, either, and was notoriously vague about the parentage of her final three children.

elayna targaryen was the child born in 108 AC, and she was raised alongside helaena almost like a sister. they were not overly similar in terms of personality, but their close ages kept them in step with each other. they were cousins, after all.

while daenys was quiet and observant, elayna was merely observant. her intelligence sparkled, as did her charisma. bards wrote songs about the delicate little knife she was said to carry around with her, the hilt inlaid with pearls as her mother often wore. if any of their children was meant for dark work, it was the sweet-faced elayna, what with her obvious talent for deception.

but where elayna was a dagger, alora was a warhammer. even from a young age, the girl showed her interest in combat as openly as she could, and as she shot up taller than both rhaenyra and alicent’s children to the same six feet as her mother, she proved that she could handle anything they threw at her.

it was no surprise when alora ended up spawning a vicious rivalry between herself and aegon targaryen, who loathed being so routinely bested by a girl. she was brazen and bold -- exactly the maiden her mother wished she could have been. or, rather, the maiden vhaena was beyond closed doors, with those she trusted.

the last of their children was a son — aenys. he was born late in 110 AC, one of two children that vhaena carried to term and thought to be healthy.  but where one of them was indeed a strong babe, the other was stillborn, and the birth was extremely difficult on vhaena. the maester warned her that she should not risk having more children, and after the events that stole aemma from him, viserys agreed that this would be their last.

aenys was her sweetheart, and for once, a doting mother did not develop an ignorant or annoying son. the boy was impossibly kind and loved animals from an early age, though his dragon’s egg never hatched. he brought to the family an almost endless amount of optimism and light, and all of his siblings loved him.

events of the dance of the dragons.

aenar was the first to come to trouble following aegon’s crowning, as he had remained in king’s landing even when his mother and siblings fled to dragonstone. not only did he feel — foolishly — that alicent would not consider him a threat, but life at court was his raison d'être. being without it felt like cutting off a limb.

he was thrown into the dungeon in the belly of the red keep and left to rot, barely kept alive with water and scraps for the better part of a year.

but while aenar was the first to come to trouble, alyssa was the first of viserys and vhaena’s eight children to die. desperate to have her brother back with them, she took it upon herself to return to king’s landing.

after all, she was not noticeably targaryen like her other siblings with her dirty blonde hair. she dressed herself in rags and covered her face and used every trick she’d ever learned to get into the dungeon. not that those tricks  were enough to keep her alive when guards set upon her with swords. she was run through and left behind for the rats, thought to be no more than a cutpurse.

aenar died some months later, when the existence of viserys targaryen’s firstborn son was all but forgotten in the midst of all the chaos. the glittering gem of the realm died of dehydration, mere meters from where his sister had been killed, unknown to him.

with one brother jailed and one sister missing, the six remaining siblings remained relatively well and alive for years. maeron became one of daemon’s closely kept secrets, along with his she-dragon — ironhide — who was said to breathe black fire, like his father’s balerion. little fang proved to have a nasty bite, and he is part of the reason the castellan of harrenhal bent the knee to daemon and joined the blacks.

while elayna and daenys joined their cousins and other members of the blacks in the efforts towards bringing more lords to their cause, rhaelys remained at dragonstone, keeping aenar and alyssa’s dragons healthy, though he still did not have one of his own. it was alora who took to aenar’s dragon, tyrhai, and proved a terror for it.

after years bonded to the rather ineffectual aenar, tyrhai relished the opportunity to be ridden by someone with blood on the mind.

the next to die was daenys.

while traveling through the riverlands, she lingered for the night in claypool to rest after a long flight with her young dragon, still unnamed even after so many years and only referred to as darling by daenys herself. it was there that she found herself at odds with aemond and his men.

she truly had no chance, even with darling close at hand. the dragon was easily done away with -- a net thrown over its slender body and its throat slit by soldiers, and the soft-spoken princess was killed as unceremoniously with a sword through her belly.

ser criston cole found her body amongst other corpses just outside of claypool, sat up against the blackened belly of an apple tree in her bloodied silver dress. darling’s corpse was curled around the tree’s trunk and its head was placed carefully into her lap, as if daenys was hoping to comfort her even after death.

sometime between daenys’s death and the next of her family, elayna was taken hostage and brought to oldtown for questioning.

maeron fell shortly after, but not in the way anyone would have expected such a valiant fighter to perish.

a month before the events at tumbleton, he caught rhaelys slipping something into their mother’s cup. his elder brother had long-since taken care of vhaena, given how torn up with grief and mourning the woman was at the loss of her love and  her children. she had not cried in some time, however. not spoken. it was that night when maeron discovered why.

rhaelys was using medicine as a way to keep her docile, using the methods she’d so often used to help their father with his pain. the ones rhaelys used on her, however, were dangerous things, often mixed into poisons in greater amounts.

when maeron attacked him, rhaelys did all he could to survive the encounter. rather than fighting back, he grasped a handful of powdered greycap and shoved it into his brother’s mouth, using his superior size to pin his younger brother to the ground and force him to swallow enough to kill him.

then, ashamed of himself and his desperation to survive, rhaelys fled dragonstone.

alora returned to the island following a letter from her mother. she was needed, vhaena said, grief-stricken still and recovering from the sudden throes of detoxification from years of being nursed small doses of poison by her son. “bring my strong girl back home.”

there, vhaena kept alora and aenys for as long as she could, until the rage inside of her furious daughter broke free, and she took to the sky with tyrhai again, this time turning her attention towards aemond at harrenhal. she hated leaving her mother, but at the same time, she needed to fight. her blood sang for it.

so, with only aenys left to her, vhaena remained at dragonstone... for  only a month more.

when aegon ii and lord larys turned their sights towards dragonstone and the remaining targaryens, vhaena could no longer stay. she knew that she could no longer stay. day and night for nearly a week, she scoured the castle looking for aenys. she cried out to him for hours and hours, until her throat was bloody and raw, and she never found him.

the morning she took goldenlyre and left dragonstone was also the morning vhaena died. not to aegon and sunfyre, not to his soldiers, not to larys, but to the cannibal, knocked from the air and devoured for breakfast.

aenys survived because he hid. he survived everything because he was a slip of a thing and afraid, no matter how much his mother’s fearful howling for him broke his heart.

thankfully, alora never learned of how her mother died or how her brother hid like a coward until he could run someplace safe. she was killed before the ravens could reach her -- shot down from tyrhai’s back just over the god’s eye. while her dragon survived, she did not. there was no surviving that fall.

it was said that elayna laughed when news finally reached her, with tears like pearls in her eyes. much was said about all of them that didn’t turn out to be true, but that most of all. she did not laugh when she heard the news, nor did she cry.

[writerscornercafe]

WCC's Round Robin #7 & #8

Thank you so so much to @tommokat (pink) @thinlinez (green) and @beelou (red) for participating in another Round Robin session and writing this amazing crack fic! I hope you all have a great laugh as much as we did!

“Harry. My love.”

“Yes?” Harry singsongs back to Louis, although it comes out like ‘yeth’ from the banana in his mouth.

“Are you going to do anything besides eat bananas with Mildred today?”

Harry frowns at Louis and shares a look with Mildred. “Why would I do that?”

“Because we have a lot to do today. Because we bought a zoo!”

“We bought an animal sanctuary, actually.” Harry takes another bite of banana and passes more to Mildred. “Honestly, between this one and your Frank, I don’t know how we put up with these monkeys, Mildred.”

Louis stares at him. “Mildred is literally a monkey.”

“I mean, if you want to be technical about it, we all are, but I didn’t know we were being pedantic about it.”

Louis sighs and drops his head into his hands. “Just make sure you give some bananas to Frank and Ricco as well, please? They’re not just for your girl time with Milly.” Harry sends him a kiss and Louis knows he’s been heard (and played). “I’m going to go feed the otters and then check in with Niall.” He turns to walk out the office door and completely fails to not laugh at Harry’s shouted ‘Awake the Kraken!’ behind him.

Louis walks down the dirt path, nodding in greeting to the volunteers he walks by. He stops to get the bucket of fish for the otters from the kitchen and is on his way to the otter habitat. How they even got into this is really a blur for him. One minute Harry is looking at properties to buy and the next, he makes the transaction for a zoo. Harry insists on calling it an animal sanctuary, but a zoo is what it is. 

The otters are one of his favorite animals, though. They’re just so cute and have so much personality. Louis never realized that animals could have so much gumption before this. For that, he is grateful to learn. It’s been stressful at times, of course, but all in all, it’s been fun.

A splash from beside the otter habitat makes him look up, bit of crayfish dangling from his fingers as Niall pokes his head up.

"Awake so early?" Louis raises a brow as he teasingly waves the food at the squid whose head was bobbing above the water, huge eyes tracking his every move. "Guess you must have smelled the food, but these aren't for you…" 

Niall does a flip disappearing under the surface and splashing a decent amount of water over the brim of his tank. Louis doesn't get why Niall loves to throw tantrums. He and Harry had especially gotten the huge tank just for him and had even moved the tanks of eels and turtles to the other side of the sanctuary. Niall was too spoiled for his own good. 

Louis shakes his head as he walks away, knowing full well that he would come back soon to give the spoiled squid his full English breakfast. 

“Alright, friends!” Louis calls as he makes it into the otter compound. “Who’s ready for breakfast?”

He takes his time with the little creatures, making sure each of them get greeted with joy and a fair share of the food. There’s 13 of them in total, but Louis wouldn’t mind if the whole zoo was only otters. An otter-only zoo. He has confessed as much to Harry and was told it would be ‘an otter-ly amazing zoo.’ Always with the puns, that one is.

“I shared it with Frank and Ricco. Frank said thank you, Ricco just rolled his eyes at me. I don’t think Ricco likes me that much.”

Louis pats the concrete next to where he’s sitting and wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders when he cuddles close. “Think maybe that’s because you eat all of his food and take the attention of his mother all the time?”

Harry seems to consider it for a few seconds, but ultimately sighs. “No, that can’t be it.”

Louis turns back to the otters to hide his amused grin. He finds a pair of otters floating, little paws clasped so they stay together, a tiny fluff of fur atop the tummy of the longer one. An otter-ly perfect family.

Harry finds them, too. “Look, that’s us.”

“We don’t have a baby, baby,” Louis reminds him. (Yet, he thinks.)

“We have a lot of babies. Niall included.”

Speaking of the devil, Niall comes in with Lewis, twerking into the scene. 

“I heard my name! I am here!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Louis asks, face red from holding in his laughter at the sight. Niall is a terrible twerker. Lewis isn’t much better at all.

“Twerking! What does it look like?” Lewis says, still shaking his arse in the air.

“Well, stop it! You ruined our cute and sappy moment with the otters!”

Niall stops twerking, but Lewis keeps going as he walks out of the habitat.

“Why were you twerking? Wait- I don’t wanna know. It’s okay.” Louis shakes his head. “I was just gonna go find you after I fed the otters. Do you need something? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah everything’s fine,” Niall says but he’s not meeting Louis’ eyes.

“Niall? What’s up?” Harry asks again, noticing the lack of eye contact.

“Thelionandtigermated.”

“What?”

Niall sighs and repeats himself slower. “The lion and the tiger mated.”

Louis has to process the statement for a second, but before he could say anything, Harry is wriggling out of his cuddle and jumping up, curls flying.

"Oh my god! A liger is about to grace our sanctuary! I've been waiting for this moment for so long!" Harry squeals, pumping his fists in the air.

"You have?" Louis' mouth drops open.

"Of course! I mean, there is not a lion on earth who can resist the charm of our beautiful majestic Liam."

"You not only play matchmaker for people but also for your animals? Speaking of which, why don't you play matchmaker for mini me? All I get is an empty tank and is by my lonesome self all the time…" Niall huffs.

"Oi, it's hard enough to find squids around here. We live in London, not on an island." Louis slaps Niall on the shoulder as the Irish attempt to close their distance, shaking his arse again.

"But Lou! We did see that really pretty octopus in the fish market last weekend…" Harry interjects, forest greens misty and thoughtful. "I think he'll still be there if we go back this week."

“Excuse you, Harry, but my Niall boy is a squid. He needs a squid lover.”

Harry huffs, sitting back down with Louis and wrapping his arms around Louis. Louis can tell he’s preparing a comeback, so he rolls his eyes and prepares for the weird best friend crack these two always get into.

“Your boy is infertile anyway, so it doesn’t matter what type of creature his life mate is.”

“Listen, I’m not saying they have to be a match made in heaven, everyone knows those only come around so often–”

“Yes, Louis and I are truly a rare breed.”

“—But if we could find another creature of the same species, that would be great.”

“Sure, Niall, I’ll get right on that. You know, I think Manchester just got a whole buttload of squids in. I’ll just give them a call.”

“Great! Thanks!”

“That was sarcasm, you Irish twat!”

“Aww.” Niall pouts

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he sighs. Niall looks up hopefully. “I’ll have Harry look into getting another squid.”

“Yay!” Niall clapps his hands and lunges forward to kiss Louis on the cheek violently, holding his face in both hands.

“Oi! That was wet!” Louis screeches, wiping his cheek of the slobber that Niall left. But Niall is already twerking out of the room, not having a care in the world.

“Never a dull moment with him, is there?” Louis shakes his head, bewildered.

Suddenly, Harry’s walkie talkie that is slung around his hips cracks to life, startling the couple.

“Hey, H?” Lewis’ voice echoed out from the machine. “Them new lemurs you got are fighting… Again… I think Zayn goaded them into it.”

“Fucking shit!” Louis swears even though Lewis wasn’t addressing him. He could see Harry giving him a disapproving look.

“No swearing in front of our otters!” His husband pouted adorably. Louis sighs, grabbing at Harry’s arm and hoisting the taller man up.

“Time to go stop the fight or else it’ll get bloody… And you’re the only one who can talk sense into Zayn.”

They round the otter habitat and cross the length of a field, passing by the ducks, koalas clinging to trees and kangaroos chilling under the shades.

The lemur habitat comes into view and what a sight it beholds. As always, Zayn is sitting on the top rock, lounging in the sun like a king and surveying the other fellow lemurs who are hissing and clawing at each other beneath him. In front of Zayn laid a single tangerine. Louis deduces that the fruit must be what the others are fighting over.

“Why are our friends the most chaotic fools known to mankind? First Niall and his twerking and his squid junior, now Zayn and his lemur Hunger Games.” Louis sighs and rubs a hand across his forehead. “Next thing you know, Liam will be teaching the penguins how to dance like Happy Feet.”

“Ooh, that would be cute!” Harry exclaims. “You go get him to do that, I’ll take care of Z, and I’ll meet you back in your office in thirty for a little dance lesson of our own.” He waggles his eyebrows in the most Harry way possible and Louis is too fond for this goof to do anything but agree to his silly terms.

“Alright, lovey. You take care of this one, I’ll take care of that one, and we’ll take care of each other in thirty.” He presses a kiss to Harry’s lips and pulls away with a wink.

Harry watches Louis walk away only to be interrupted by Zayn’s drawl.

“They’re fun, right?”

Harry turns around. “What did you do?”

Zayn shrugs, taking a bite out of the apple in his hand. “I fed them.”

Harry closes his eyes, centering himself. The one line responses irritating him to no end. Has it been thirty minutes yet? “Obviously you didn’t give them enough. Look at them! Your mini me is up there teasing them!”

Zayn takes another bite of his apple. “Is that what they’re doing? I thought they were just playing with each other. I thought it was cute.”

“It certainly is not cute!” Harry gestures pointedly at the lemur who took that exact moment to pounce on her neighbor, sending the other lemur flying.

Harry strides up to the fence, whistling so that mini Zayn would look up and catch his gaze. He shakes his head at lemur Zayn, pursing his lips as he points at the tangerine then back down at the fighting lemurs.

Mini Zayn makes a eeping noise before glancing at his human counterpart who tossed the apple core into the grass, straightening his overalls.

“Alright my dude, give the tangerine to your friends, come on.” Zayn orders lazily as Harry crosses his arms.

Lemur Zayn gives Harry another cock of his head before hopping down from his rock throne, grabbing the tangerine and waving it at the rest of the lemurs. They all crowd around their leader as Harry turns to give Zayn a slap on the shoulder.

“Well now that we don’t have to worry about lemur civil war, I need to run back to my otter pups. I forgot to give them their special treat.” Harry fishes a bag out from his pocket, three boiled eggs inside.

“Three eggs for the whole raft of otters?”

“Certainly not. These are for Harry and Louis and baby Pino. Obviously.”

“Your favoritism is showing. You’re almost as bad as me.”

Harry stuck his tongue out at Zayn and put the bag back in his pocket.

“I don’t even know why Lou hired you in the first place. You don’t ever help and always stir up chaos. You are in cahoots with mini Zayn.”

“If I’m not around then this zoo will be so boooooooring. And you know Lou hired me coz I’m his best friend.” Zayn smirks as he gives Harry a friendly pat on the back. “Now run along and go find your husband. I overheard you guys earlier… Dancing lesson? You guys are beyond sick.” All of this, Zayn says with a knowing fond smile.

Harry brightens. “Aww, Z, does that mean you’ll help me feed the squirrels, camels and ravens?” “That is one long list… But fine. Go have some quality time with your husband and leave you guys’ children to me then.” One last thing before Harry leaves, he hears Zayn muttering. “Can’t believe these two went and bought themselves a zoo.”